


Phil's Avengers

by auchterlonie



Series: An Agent's Life [3]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Natasha, BAMF Phil Coulson, Character Death Fix, F/M, Gen, Implied Slash, M/M, Phil loves his team, Post-Avengers Asgard, Tony Stark Has A Heart, bilgesnipe hunt, healing the scars, multiple short stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auchterlonie/pseuds/auchterlonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Phil is on the mend, he realizes his Avengers reacted to his death in different ways. He reaches out to Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Tony to try and reestablish their bond. A series of short adventures results. Action, comedy, romance, bilgesnipes... Phil and the others find their way in the post-Chitauri, post-Mandarin world.<br/>(Can be read as a stand alone or as part of a series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phil's Avengers

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Iron Man 3, pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.  
> Part of a series but can be read as a stand-alone.  
> Please be warned - there is violence in this story in the form of ass kicking and bad guy deaths from hand to hand combat and weapons. For that reason, I rated this teen and up audiences.
> 
> This is an out-growth of my extremely short story 'Agent Mark One'. There is also a very slight connection to my story 'Not the Hero Type. Clearly.' It is not necessary to read either before reading this.  
> Thanks to epeeblade for the beta. All errors, grammatically and conceptually, are my own.

_“So… have you spoken to Nat lately?” Clint Barton had asked casually._

It was several months since the attack on the Helicarrier before Phil was able to take stock of his Avengers and see how his injuries had affected them. Until talking it over with Clint, he hadn’t considered his injuries even _could_ affect them. After all, who was he among superheroes? It was frankly astonishing that his ‘death’ had even been noticed amongst the chaos. Thousands had died, buildings had fallen, yet they had mourned for him. It was deeply touching.

Clint in particular had become quite supportive during his recovery – much more open and forthright. It was a development Phil was not opposed to by any stretch of the imagination, but it had forced Phil in a late night moment of introspection, to recognize the emotional change. He began to consider if the others had changed as well. Until that moment, he’d been so focused on his own recovery that he had not considered the Avengers might need to recover as well.

Bruce and Cap had spent the least amount of time with Phil and so appeared to have been only marginally affected. Bruce had never had a particularly stellar relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. and hadn’t really sought to befriend anyone there. To Cap, Phil was a fallen comrade who had passed into the realm of the Honored Dead. He mourned him, but Phil was hardly alone among the Cap’s thoughts. Many comrades resided there. Too many.

But Phil’s Avengers – the ones he’d been able to build a relationship with - they seemed to take the death a little harder and were affected each in their own way.

In retrospect, Phil realized his role among them had become something more than their humble liaison to S.H.I.E.L.D., and given the psychology involved, Phil realized he should have recognized it earlier. What made this team work well together - what made this team great - was that each understood the pain the others had experienced in their lives and were trying to alleviate. Each of the team members were the product of misfortune, abuse, and neglect. They’d each learned to walk alone in this world, fend for themselves, fight to survive. They trusted no one but themselves. 

When Phil came into their lives, he offered them something they’d never had before – a stable and supportive authoritative figure. Under Phil’s direction, they’d bonded as a group of siblings and had learned to trust each other as well as him. More importantly, they’d learned the freedom that came with having someone who would guide, protect, and support them. They’d learned to trust that he would always be there.

Until one day he wasn’t.

Thor saw it as glad tidings that the son of Coul had faced a son of Odin in battle and survived. He had come to see Phil as invincible and that could prove dangerous… for Phil. He was going to have to convince Thor to take it a bit easy with him. But at the same time, Phil couldn’t risk offending him or losing his respect as an ally. Phil was going to have to figure out how to walk a careful line with the hero.

Clint had instead been reminded of the shortness and preciousness of life. That meant voicing his more tender feelings for Phil and choosing not to waste his opportunities to share a life with him. It was wonderfully heartwarming, but Phil was forced to question if the feelings were genuine or misplaced. To protect his own deeply scarred heart, Phil was going to have to figure out what he actually meant to Clint.

Tony and Natasha, the team’s most guarded members, had had the greatest difficulty with Phil’s death. Neither was able to understand, let alone deal with, the intense emotions associated with grief. Tony had responded by becoming overly protective, to the point of being clingy. He’d never known a stable father figure and the fear of that loss drove him to take elaborate, obsessive steps to protect and monitor Phil’s safety. It would have been touching if it hadn’t begun to interfere with every single thing he tried to do.

Natasha, on the other hand, responded to these unknown and frightening emotions by shutting them down. She’d disappeared on foreign mission after foreign mission. She’d said nothing to Coulson, sent no messages, and had not even allowed herself to be in the same room with him. On video conferences, she’d focus her eyes on a spot just below his nose.

She had put as much distance between them as she possibly could. If he didn’t know and understand her so well, he’d have thought she was angry over Fury’s deception, but he knew better. She had allowed herself to trust and grow attached to a person, but not even she had realized how fully until he was gone. She was embarrassed by her emotions, confused by them, and coupled with the fear and anger of grief, she was overwhelmed by things she could neither understand nor control.

Phil knew she would stay away until she could process all that was going on in her mind. Unfortunately, he also knew that she would eventually begin to associate all these negative feelings with Phil himself, if she hadn’t done so already. Misplaced anger and resentment would destroy the trust they’d spent years building. Phil knew the longer she stayed away, the less likely it was they’d ever recover what was lost between them.

And so Phil determined to work with each of his Avengers and begin undoing the damage he’d inadvertently created, starting with Natasha.

 

Part One: The Black Widow

The first thing anyone learned when dealing with the Black Widow was that you didn’t want to be dealing with the Black Widow. If you found yourself facing her - assuming of course she had actually allowed you to live long enough to face her – chances were that you had done something spectacularly naughty and she was your reckoning.

Many were familiar with the harsh ways Soviet-era athletes were removed from their homes as children and forced into punishing worlds of discipline and exercise, the honor of the Motherland resting on their tiny shoulders. As abusive as these training schools had proven, Phil knew they were the greatly watered-down, civilian-friendly versions of the military program Natasha Romanova had been raised in.

She was the product of industrialized torment. Children demonstrating her type of potential were moved through program after program, tested for weakness the way newly foundered steel rods are tested to determine their breaking point. Failure was met with beatings. Displays of emotion were met with something worse. She’d been tortured, drugged, and molded into a pre-pubescent killing machine and then loosed upon the world. She had grown to know only war, either hot or cold, and she had seen firsthand the very worst humanity was capable of. She had reciprocated in kind.

Phil was very familiar with her work and had willingly used her skills for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s own purposes. He had no blind eye when it came to understanding the level of destruction Natasha was capable of producing and he was deeply impressed by the manner in which she created it. Whereas Stark preferred to obliterate targets loudly, completely, and from a distance if possible, Natasha preferred to look her targets in the eyes. Touch them. Smell them. Watch the life drain from them as they came to understand in the last possible moment, how they had so egregiously underestimated this tiny woman.

But where Phil stood apart from any of her previous handlers was that he saw her humanity. To Phil, she was not just a killing machine – a tool produced in a factory for a specific job, to be discarded and replaced when broken. Nor was she a heartless assassin who could take a life without remorse or effect. He knew each life taken weighed upon her, very heavily at times.  A part of Phil did and always would see her as that that scared, orphaned girl, struggling to survive her childhood. It wasn’t pity; it was regret that her life’s choices had been made for her. It was something he wanted to make up to her.

***

On this particular morning, that scared, orphaned girl was making a choice of her own. She was standing in the server room of an Austrian tech giant’s remote facility, the unconscious bodies of guards and techs alike strewn along her path. She had asked the remaining tech a question and he had unwisely chosen to give her attitude instead of an answer.  What was it with tech guys?

“I’m curious if you don’t understand my question or if you don’t understand what’s going on here?” she asked, stepping away from the chair where he was secured and towards his terminal. She inserted a portable drive and watched the cascading effect as the software infiltrated and destroyed server after server. Terminals around the room went blank and the gentle whirring sounds of the background fell silent.

“I don’t think _you_ understand who _you’re_ dealing with!  You think you’re the first operative to try and sneak in here? Wrong! Any minute now, that door is going to burst open and you’re going to learn firsthand what happened to them.”

She slowly turned and looked at the door. The tech, so confidant of his eminent rescue, began to shrink in his chair and shield his face from the inevitable blast that would come when guards burst in. She let him have a moment and then walked over to another station. She rolled the chair slowly back towards him, letting the sound of the wheels on the floor slowly fill the otherwise silent room. She stopped it next to him and sat down, facing the door same as he was. They sat and watched – she with exaggerated patience, he with an increasing sense of dread.

“You meant that door, right?” she asked, propping her feet up on his desk.

The sweat began to pool on his forehead as he strained his ears listening for any sound outside that might indicate someone – anyone – was on their way. She gave him another moment to let his hope fade, and then she drew a knife from a leg holster and carefully began cleaning her nails. They’d gotten quite dirty in the hallway.

She held the knife at just the right angle to catch and hold his attention. She moved it slowly back and forth, expertly catching the fluorescent light and casting it back in his direction. It had a hypnotically calming effect that allowed him to really consider his situation. Using his focus on the blade, she led his eyes around the room, moving from unconscious guard to unconscious guard, ending with the guard’s boot that lay in the doorway and propped open the door.

He swallowed and slumped in his seat just a bit as the stillness took hold.

“Now that you understand what’s going on here, do I need to repeat the question?”

***

She moved quickly from the building, half carrying an injured and disoriented man. He had his arm draped around her shoulders for support and was gamely trying to walk with limited success. The plan had been to rescue this man – an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative who’d failed to report in - take him out the way she’d snuck in and to a nearby ravine. There, she would signal for the waiting S.H.I.E.L.D. truck to come and whisk them away. Simple, quiet, easy.

When she came around the building however, she found Coulson waiting for her near the main gates, casually leaning against a sleek, black car that was parked vertically across the roadway. The two sentry posts stood smoking behind him and a series of somewhat uniformly spaced craters just past the fence suggested the land mines were no longer going to be a problem.

She stopped and stared in surprise. She really hated surprises.

“Get in,” was all he said, opening the door for them. He helped her get the agent into the backseat before peeling off at breath-taking speed.

***

He said nothing and kept his eyes firmly locked on the road ahead.

“What’s going on here, Coulson? Why did the plan change?” she asked after a moment.

“It didn’t seem like a very good plan.” He looked up at the rear view mirror and saw the tech firm’s chase cars coming up behind them. She noticed them too, as well as the distant rotor sounds of a helicopter approaching.

“This seemed like a better plan to you?” she asked, reaching down for her pistols.

Shots rang out from the chase cars and bullets peppered the roadway alongside them. Coulson smoothly adjusted their heading, changed gears, and sped on.

“Yes, it seemed like it would give us a chance to talk.”

Natasha ignored that and rolled down her window. She fired a few rounds towards the cars and used the opportunity to count them.

“We’ve got at least six cars and a few motorcycles. How the hell did they organize so quickly?”

“I told them where we were going.”

She turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes locked firmly ahead, that usual half smile stuck on his face.

“I’m sorry… you told them where we were going?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders just a bit. “I thought it would be more fun this way.”

She stared at him trying to determine if he’d gone insane. Without warning, he banged a hard, right turn onto a forest road that took them up through the woods.

“I packed your things, by the way,” he said indicating with a nod for her to look in the back seat. They had slumped the agent against a group of duffle bags but she’d only given them a cursory glance. Now, she smiled just a little, holstered her pistols and reached back into the bags. She emerged with a small, automatic weapon which glowed with the power of ‘widow’s bite’ ammo. They were a gift from Tony Stark, designed to mirror the action of her trademarked bracelets. And she loved them dearly.

She leaned back out the window and waited for that first car to bang the right and follow them. When it did, she fired a single shot into the engine block and watched as the ammo sent 30,000 volts of electricity into the car. The driver must have been affected because the car swerved violently into a tree. A second car had been close behind and it was unable to adjust in time. It crashed into the first car and flipped, blocking much of the road.

Natasha could see the other cars slow and then speed off down the main road once they realized the forest road was blocked. They’d likely catch up at another entrance further down. Two motorcycles, however, weaved their way through the carnage and continued following. She took aim at the lead motorcycle and waited for him to get a bit closer, but her attention was suddenly ripped away. The helicopter that had, up until then, been only heard, suddenly emerged above the treetops and strafed the road in front of them as it passed overhead. Coulson hit the brakes and swerved, preventing any shot from touching the car. He smoothly corrected like he was doing nothing more than changing lanes and continued on, still keeping his eyes firmly ahead.

They listened as the chopper’s rotor sound began to change, obviously banking to come around for another pass.

“I’m going to have to take out that helicopter. Keep an eye on the riders,” she said reaching back to change weapons. She pulled out the case for a sniper’s rifle and quickly began assembling the pieces. He nodded wordlessly and opened the sunroof for her.

The treetops were tall enough and the chopper was flying low enough that she knew she wouldn’t be able to see the chopper until the last possible moment. She would likely only get one shot, so she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the rotor’s sound. She tried to mentally picture not only where the chopper was, but where it would emerge, where the pilot would be sitting, at what angle it would be flying, and how that angle would change the tilt of his head. She needed to take one shot and make one kill. As the rotors grew louder, the buzz of the motorcycles did as well. She’d risk emerging at the last possible moment, take her shot, and get back inside before the motorcycle riders could take theirs.

The rotors reached their loudest pitch; she stood up through the sun roof and took aim at a spot just above the treetops. The lead rider, however, seemed to have predicted this and had his gun at the ready. He quickly took aim at her head.

Before he could fire, Coulson hit an elaborate sequence of buttons on the dash and a torrent of thick, black oil shot out from pressurized canisters in the rear bumper. Natasha heard the noise, but didn’t flinch from her attention. Nearly simultaneously, the motorcycles hit the slick and skidded violently, the riders were thrown, the chopper emerged from the treetops, and Natasha took a single shot, hitting the pilot square in the head. The chopper listed sharply and went down immediately. It exploded just beyond the tree line.

Natasha looked back down the road towards the motorcycles and then slid back into the car.

“An oil slick? Seriously?” she asked.

Coulson shrugged and said nothing. She continued to look at him.

“You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one, aren’t you? You think you’re James Bond right now. You’re having fun with this.”

He smiled and she knew that he was. She laughed in spite of herself. This really was more fun than the other plan.

***

They continued to speed along the forest road. Natasha had selected a few pieces from the duffle bags and was holding them across her lap, ready for the remaining chase vehicles whenever they emerged. Coulson continued to look straight ahead.

As the silence stretched on, it felt more and more awkward. He’d said this car ride would give them a chance to talk and she kept expecting him to start that conversation at any point. She was very conscious of the fact they’d never talked about New York. She’d gone through her official debrief with Maria Hill still believing Coulson was dead. She’d gotten very drunk with Clint that night as the two commiserated over the loss. She knew Clint better than anyone and knew he’d been rocked by Phil’s death. She’d begun the night thinking she’d help him work through it, but ended the night realizing she needed the help too. It was a disturbing feeling. She was not usually the one left to mourn after a battle.

Natasha had been in a bar with a pretty inebriated Clint the night they’d found out Phil had survived, too. Tony had called them all to Stark Tower and let them know that he’d discovered the comatose Phil languishing in a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility. He’d removed Phil from S.H.I.E.L.D.’S care – with or without their blessing remained unclear – and set him up in a private clean-room where his own medical tech could monitor.

 Clint had found every excuse to hang around the Tower and Stark had seemed to encourage it. She’d had to listen to the two of them prattle on about Phil these past few months; excited about his progress, worried about his headspace…  it was enough to make a girl sick. Like Phil was the only one among them to ever take a shot to the chest. He’d survived - and kudos to him – but there was certainly no reason to get all choked up about it. What did he want, a parade?

He’d been stupid to face Loki alone. Who did he think he was? He was no superhero. He put himself at risk for no good reason and it nearly cost him his life. When she stood on the streets of Manhattan staring down Chitauri, she’d had to do it without his voice in her ear. Now here he was taking stupid chances again. He should have let her stick to the original plan. She’d have gotten the agent out and Phil would have remained safely tucked back in the ops center. What was he thinking doing all this?

Phil knew she was taking sideways glances at him but he let the silence stretch on, maintaining his relaxed half-smile.

Natasha caught a glimpse of something reflective in the woods ahead and to the left. It was most likely sunlight reflecting off a windshield and she knew the chase cars had found another road to cut through. They’d likely emerge ahead of them at any moment.

“How would you like to play this?” he asked, eyes still on the road.

“I want you to stop the car and let me handle this.”

She’d expected argument but instead he hit the brakes and the stopped the car in the middle of the road. He continued to stare straight ahead. His subservient act was becoming a bit unnerving. What kind of game was he playing with her?

She pushed these thoughts aside and started to plan. Then she got out and so did Phil, who moved to open the trunk for her. She watched him and then came around to look. The trunk was filled with several larger weapons, a mix of alien and Stark tech. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of so much fire power.

“Wow, you really did bring all the toys.” She pulled a plasma weapon and handed it to Phil. “Stay here. If they get past me, use this to take them out.” Then she went back to the duffle bags and selected a number of knives and throwing stars to add to the ones already on her person, and took off running up the road along the wood line. She allowed herself one look back at Phil and saw he was casually leaning against the driver’s door, watching the road, plasma weapon in hand. With the immaculate suit and sun glinting off his aviators, he looked just like the Phil of old. It was almost easy to forget all that had happened.

Almost.

***

Natasha concealed herself by lying in the roadway ditch. She watched as the chase vehicles - two motorcycles and four SUVs positioned in a lightly staggered two by two pattern – approached at speed. Throwing knives in each hand, she waited until the leading motorcycles had almost reached her before she rose and took a step onto the road. With her left, she threw a knife into the closest rider’s neck and took another step onto the road, launching the other knife at the rider across the way. One more step took her directly into the path of the lead SUV. She pulled her pistol and fired a flurry of bullets into the driver’s space. The brakes squealed but it continued moving, veering slightly as the driver slumped against the wheel. She jumped and rolled back into the ditch, shielding herself as the SUV launched off the road, over her, and into the trees.

The second SUV had been moving roughly parallel and tried to skid to a halt. Natasha rose from her position and fired as it came to stop. She hit the driver and, as he slumped, hit the passenger gunman. The remaining two SUVs halted just up the road and gunmen got out, shielding themselves behind their doors. Natasha looked at them to assess, then crawled back towards the crashed SUV in the tree line. She moved around behind it, shielding herself from the SUVs on the road. A gunman was trying to free himself and she casually shocked him with the widow’s bite bracelet, her eyes already up looking at the road while he fell back in through the broken window.

The SUVs were slowly crawling forward. They were being cautious and allowing the gunman to walk along with the protection of their open doors. Natasha allowed the nearest vehicle to come almost up to the crashed one before she slid underneath it and emerged just behind the gunman. She grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck before he could turn his weapon. Then she grabbed a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin and tossed it into the vehicle, shutting the door behind her. She took a few running steps, jumped and rolled up the roadway behind and away from the SUV as it exploded.

The gunman from the remaining SUV had turned with his weapon when she ran, but flinched when the other SUV exploded. It was just the time she needed. She stopped her roll and while kneeling, grabbed and threw two throwing stars at him. He fell back against the SUV, struggling to grasp the star in his neck before he slumped to the road.

Natasha sprinted towards the SUV as the driver emerged. He’d pulled a pistol, but she got to him first. She disarmed him by snapping his wrist and elbow simultaneously. She spun him and got her arm around his thick neck before letting the widow’s bite send 30,000 volts through his system. He dropped to the road and continued twitching.

She had just a moment to look around for any remaining gunman before a voice called out “target acquired, firing” from the SUVs dashboard system. She looked at the monitor and saw they’d called in air support. Radar indicated a fast moving gunship coming from directly behind them.

In a panic, she looked up the road and at Phil still leaning casually against his car. She was going to lose him a second time.

She hopped in the SUV and floored it. There was no real plan. Maybe she could get to Phil before the missile and get him out of the blast radius. Maybe she could trick the missile into tracking her instead. She had to do something.

A glance at the monitor showed the incoming missile and as she looked up the road, she knew she’d never beat it. “Come on you piece of shit, move!” she shouted at the SUV, wishing she’d grabbed one of the motorcycles instead.

Eyes locked on Phil, she held her breath.

Phil watched as her SUV speed towards him and looked up at the approaching missile, whose white vapor trail was now close enough to be visible. He calmly stepped away from the car, carefully aimed his plasma weapon, and fired.

The plasma burst shot out and met the missile while still a few hundred yards away. It fried the missile’s internal systems and the missile fell from the sky like a rock. It bounced off the road and skidded towards him before finally rolling along off the road and into the ditch.

Natasha slowed the SUV and came to a stop a hundred yards from Phil. She got out and looked back at the approaching gunship, expecting it to fire again. Instead, it was obliterated in mid air by a fast moving S.H.I.E.L.D. jet traveling on a perpendicular course. The jet disappeared over the tree line just as quickly as it had emerged.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and turned to look at Phil. He smiled at her and touched his ear piece. “I’m going to need some clean up here.”

The sound of a heavy truck drew her attention down the road behind him. An armored S.H.I.E.L.D. truck was making its way towards them. A similar sound drew her attention up the roadway in the opposite direction as two more S.H.I.E.L.D. trucks emerged from the side road and came towards them. Four heavily camouflaged S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives also emerged from the tree line up the way and began walking towards the destroyed vehicles.

“I guess you didn’t come alone after all,” she said, watching the men move along the road.

“I’ll never send you into the field alone.”

Natasha turned to look at him. He’d taken off his aviators and she met his eyes. The smile was gone from his face and he wordlessly communicated everything she needed to hear. He would let her take the lead, but he would always be there for her if she needed him.

She held his eyes just a little too long and felt the emotion welling up. She tried to think of something snarky to say to deflect but before she could, he simply smiled his calm, reassuring smile at her, letting her not say everything she’d wanted to say. Letting her know he understood.

“Come on, we’ve got to get our agent home.”

She nodded and followed him back towards the car. He knew she was sneaking glances at him as they drove away, but he kept his eyes firmly on the road and maintained his relaxed half-smile.

**********

 

“So…. you didn’t actually say anything to her?”

Phil was snapped from his story-telling reverie and looked across the table at Clint. Clint had set his coffee down and leaned forward in his chair, scowling at Phil with a look of utter disbelief.

“What? No, Clint, I think you missed the point,” Phil replied, reaching for his own coffee.

“And I think you missed the point. You went out there to talk to her and then you didn’t actually talk to her. No, wait, I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What was it again? You ‘wordlessly communicated’ with her? What kind of bullshit is that, Coulson?” he said with a look of admonishment.

“Well what did you want me to do, sing kumbayah? She’s the best-trained assassin in the world and hardly one for chit-chatting about her emotions.”

Clint cocked his head and looked at Phil as if he were a complete moron.

“Granted,” he said. “But she’s still a human being.  Jeez, Phil, did you even stop to consider she might like a hug?”

This time Phil had the look of disbelief. “No, I can honestly say it never occurred to me she might like a hug.”

“Or to say something like, ‘Hey Nat! How are you doing these days?’”

 Phil stood up and walked to put his dishes in the sink. “Barton… I’m pretty sure you and I have a very different impression of my relationship with Natasha.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you just missed a good opportunity to really talk to her and you still haven’t even realized it yet.”

Phil turned to look at him. He considered that for a long moment and then, in a quieter voice asked, “Do you really think I misjudged it that badly?”

Clint shook his head and sipped his coffee. “I wouldn’t worry. Nat’s pretty smart so I’m sure she got the point you so badly screwed up making.”

Phil crossed his arms and frowned, thinking back over the events.

“Phil, don’t worry about it. You can make it up to her. And besides, it’s not like I’ve been dating you for your people skills.”

Phil looked up at him as Clint took another sip of coffee.

“So tell me what happened with Thor,” he asked casually.

 

Part Two: Odin’s Son

 

Getting an audience with Thor, son of Odin, was not a particularly easy feat. Thor’s trips to Earth could rarely be predicted and traveling to Asgard had been complicated by the destruction of the Rainbow Bridge. _Further_ complicated was perhaps more precise as travel to another world was nothing if not complicated already. But it could be done, as Odin, the All Father, had proved when he sent Thor to retrieve Loki.

And having an invitation certainly helped.

Phil had earned an invitation to visit Asgard for the annual Bilgesnipe Hunt. After New York and when he had finally regained consciousness in Stark Tower, Thor had come to visit and congratulate him on defeating Death. He’d slapped the still weakened Phil on the back and laughed proudly.

“You are indeed a worthy ally, Philip, Son of Coul! It would be my honor to see you join me and my warriors in the glorious Hunt this year!”

Phil had staggered heavily from the blow and had managed a smile of thanks while struggling to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. He knew how dangerous the Hunt was for demi-gods and could only imagine what it would do to a human of his new-found frailty. He’d been honored but had no actual intention of accepting the invitation.

But situations change.

 Once Phil decided he should see Thor, the Hunt provided the perfect excuse. He was woefully underprepared, however, so he approached Tony Stark about equipment.

“I need a suit of armor,” he’d announced after stepping into one of Tony’s private labs. He’d expected the announcement to be met with laughter, derision, or some other form of mocking. Perhaps even a blunt ‘no.’ He was prepared to justify the need but if necessary – if dealing with Tony proved too aggravating or he was unwilling to help – Phil was prepared to walk away and arm himself strictly with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s own tech. Stark Tech was what was most likely to keep him alive on the hunt, though, so he’d come to Tony first.

Tony was soldering something at the moment. He didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he lifted his head as if considering something and then slowly turned to look at Phil. He seemed puzzled and like he was considering Phil himself, more than his statement.

“Is that so?” he asked as he stood up. He put down the soldering iron and crossed his arms across this chest. “Dummy? You? Get in here,” he called out to his robotic assistants before walking towards Phil and stopping almost nose to nose with him. “And… what else do you need?”

Phil had expected Tony to hesitate, but he hadn’t expected him to become confrontational. Still, Phil held his gaze.

“A weapon appropriate for carrying on horseback that can also cut through steel would be useful,” he said.

Tony leaned back a little and seemed deeply confused, almost to the point of being disappointed. Dummy and You had both wheeled into the lab and stood near the doorway behind Phil. Tony leaned to look at them over Phil’s shoulders. “Dummy? I need you to…”

“Phil… why do you need these things?” Pepper Potts interrupted from her chair by the window where she’d been lounging with a book. She got up and came to stand behind Tony, putting her arms around his and resting her head on his shoulder. Phil had a tremendous soft spot for Pepper. She was smart, competent, beautiful, and always tactful. He would never understand how Tony of all people had managed to win her heart. Not that Phil was ever in line for a chance to win that heart himself, but the romance baffled him. Despite it, or perhaps because of it, he felt deeply protective of her.  Even though he would always defer to her judgment, he never wanted to be particularly far away. It was the main reason he’d stayed on living in Stark Tower as long as he had.

“The annual Bilgesnipe Hunt on Asgard,” he said to her, ignoring Tony even though he was just inches from her face. “I’m going to join Thor and his warriors and I don’t particularly want to get dead in the process. I’ve had enough of that lately.”

Pepper rolled her head to look at Tony’s face and smiled. Tony kept his eyes on Phil and slowly began to smile as well. “A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on a snipe hunt. Yup, that sounds about right.”

He laughed and broke away from them, heading back towards his terminals. “What size do you want, Agent? And do you want it to fly? It costs extra to fly, by the way.”

Pepper and Phil shared a glance. She smiled at him and they both moved to follow.

“It doesn’t need to fly. I just need it to keep me in one piece.”

“No problem, Agent. I’ve been dying to send Fury a bill for you anyway.”

***

The suit was ready surprisingly quickly and fit Phil like a glove. Clearly all the time he’d spent with Stark’s medical tech had resulted in a few biometric scans.

“This is a defensive suit, Agent, not an offensive one,” Tony said as the helmetless suit tightened and sealed around Phil’s body. “Completely different model from any of mine or even Pepper’s. And not just the color. The green is so you can go hide in the jungle when everything goes sideways.” He paused and looked up at Phil to make sure he had his attention. “And you do know this is going to go sideways, don’t you?”

Phil looked down at the suit and began testing his range of motion. It was remarkably flexible for such tough material.

“Not if I can help it.”

“It’s not about what you can help, Agent. You couldn’t help that spear through your chest, either. Could you?”

Phil met his eyes.

“I take the point.”

“Yes, you did, didn’t you?”

They held the stare for another moment and Phil judged the seriousness in Tony’s eyes. He was genuinely concerned about Phil’s little adventure, like Phil’s decision to go had rattled him. It was remarkable how far their relationship had come.

Phil tried to think of something reassuring to say but realized he couldn’t think of anything. The Hunt was going to be terrifying and they both knew it.

“Tell me again why you’re going on this duck hunt?” Tony asked, walking away towards his lab table and the helmet sitting there.

“Thor invited me”

“No no, I’ve heard the line. Why are you really going?” Tony had turned to face him, holding the helmet casually in his hand.

Phil paused to consider how exactly to explain. “I’m trying to walk the line between reminding Thor I’m not a demi-god and maintaining his respect as an ally. The Hunt seems a more controlled way to do that than in battle,” he said finally.

Tony watched him carefully for a moment. “Ok. If that’s all it is…” he said, nodding. “As long as it has nothing to do with seeing the guy who stabbed you in the back…”

Loki. The possibility of seeing him hadn’t occurred to Phil, at least not consciously.  He had no idea what Odin had done with him. For all he knew, Loki would join them for the Hunt. He felt the pit of his stomach drop and then a rising anger. Loki…

Phil kept himself completely composed. To any outside observer, the comment hadn’t affected him at all. But Tony was watching him carefully and knew better. Tony knew those feelings.

“Are there weapons?” Phil asked him, perhaps overly casually.

“As I said, the suit’s defensive. You have a version of JARVIS in the helmet and he’ll control the suit’s density. Sorry, Agent, but your reaction time is crap these days, so JARVIS takes the lead. He sees trouble in the form of something pointy coming towards you and he manipulates the material’s density accordingly. He can make the suit as hard as a diamond if he needs to. Though…” he paused to look at Phil, a smirk on his face. “I can’t guarantee how comfortable that will be for you, so you might want to avoid testing it.”

Phil looked disappointed. “I’m hunting dragons and you’re not going to give me a weapon?”

Tony walked up to him and again stood mere inches from his face. He looked him in the eyes and said, “No. The Phil I knew never needed anything more than his pistol. When he changed that philosophy, he got dead.”

He handed Phil the helmet and smiled. “But don’t worry. JARVIS will look out for you.” Then he winked.  “Suit up, Agent.”

***

Phil struggled to maintain his composure as he stepped into Odin’s Great Hall. The majesty of the place was simply staggering. The tall, vaulted ceilings were supported by intricately carved beams depicting scenes and symbols from Asgard’s history. They arched upward some six stories to an enchanted ceiling displaying the stars that reminded geek-Phil of Hogwarts… though he’d never admit that to anyone.

A series of depicted moons shone bright light down onto Odin’s throne at the far end, where he sat with Queen Frigga. Sif and the Warriors Three - Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral – stood close by and watched as Thor walked across the hall towards them. Phil had temporarily paused to stare at the ceiling and then quickly moved to catch up. He was deeply relieved to notice Loki was nowhere in sight.

“Greetings, All Father!” Thor said, kneeling before the throne. “May I present Philip, Son of Coul, and my great ally?”

Phil came to kneel next to Thor, struggling just a bit to maintain his balance in the new suit. He bowed his head to mirror Thor and waited to be acknowledged.

“Arise, Philip, and approach.”

Phil stood and walked towards Odin, stopping a few steps from the throne. Odin seemed to be considering him with amusement. There was practically a twinkle in his good eye.

“I understand you wish to join the Hunt this year. Is that so?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“I see.” Odin stood and slowly walked around Phil. He wrapped his knuckles on Phil’s shoulders and Phil felt the material constrict under the touch. Odin smiled and seemed quite amused. He came around to face Phil.

“Well then, Philip. Welcome to Asgard. I am sure you will find all that you seek.” He returned to his throne and Thor came to stand by Phil.

“May we have your blessing for a good Hunt, Father?”

Odin smiled and nodded. Thor and the warriors bowed their heads in acknowledgement and turned to leave. Phil, just a half step behind, bowed his head as well and turned with them.

***

They feasted well into the evening.  The warriors did not and would not question Thor’s choice of hunting companion, at least not to his face… but Phil noticed them share glances several times throughout the evening. They seemed to have reservations about this human. Thor seemed not to notice.

In the morning, Phil was introduced to his steed, Svaðilfari. The name was amusing to the warriors, so Phil asked Thor why. Thor smiled.

“Svaðilfari has… a relationship with Loki as well. It seemed only appropriate to pair you.”

The Warriors Three laughed, obviously remembering the tale. Phil smiled and nodded as if he too understood the reference and made a mental note to look into it later. 

For now, he was more concerned about not making a complete fool of himself. His time in Special Forces had left him prepared for battle and his time at S.H.I.E.L.D. had prepared him to face down enormous space monsters. Yet somehow, riding off to hunt horned and fire-breathing dragons, on another world far from Earth, with Norse gods as companions, while wrapped head to toe in a superhero uniform… was almost too much to take. It was like a dream and Phil flashed back to his childhood; running around the neighborhood with a Superman cape and a Captain America shield, fighting imaginary beasts and saving the day. It was a memory that brought out so much joy in him he couldn’t help but smile and feel just a little bit invincible.

But this of course, was not the reason he had come. He quickly composed himself and began to focus on the task at hand. He turned to look at Thor and found him smiling, too. Thor had caught sight of Phil’s smile and knew they shared this sense of adventure.

“It is indeed a glorious day for the Hunt, Philip, is it not? I feel this same way before every Hunt – the thrill of the battle to come, the mystery of what awaits…” Thor said, pausing to take a deep breath of Asgard’s cold, morning air. “It is almost intoxicating, is it not?”

Phil prided himself on being composed and focused before a fight, but even he had to admit that it was intoxicating. The excitement coursed through him like it hadn’t in decades. Everything he’d seen and done over the years had left him rather jaded, he realized. But the excitement of this Hunt was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he was almost giddy.

Thor clasped him on the shoulder and said, “Good hunting, Philip.”

“Good hunting, Thor.”

Thor smiled and left Phil to climb up onto the enormous horse’s saddle… which took three attempts. The horse was huge and Svaðilfari wasn’t exactly forgiving to new riders. Once Phil finally managed to get up – and stay up – on the horse, he turned to see Sif staring at him. She was definitely unimpressed and eyed him coldly. She exchanged a glance with Fandral and then almost effortlessly coaxed her equally enormous horse to move up next to Thor at the front of their pack. She shared a quiet a word with him but he shook his head, smiled, and shared an equally quiet word.

Fandral rode up alongside Phil.

“Sif does not share Thor’s love for humans. I don’t know what your game is here, but if you cause harm to Thor either on purpose or through negligence, you will have her to face,” he said, indicating Sif with a nod in her direction. He turned in his saddle to face Phil. “And I would not envy you in that situation, armored suit or no.”

He moved his horse forward to join Sif and Thor. Hogun and Valstagg followed suit, smiling at Phil as they rode past him.

“Definitely not going to go sideways,” Phil mumbled under his breath.

***

They raced across fields towards the woods that lay at the foot of distant mountains. As they rode, peasants in the fields stopped their work and ran towards them, cheering. It was odd, but until he saw them, Phil hadn’t really considered anyone but warriors lived on Asgard. It made him realize and appreciate that Thor was protecting two worlds.

While the Bilgesnipe Hunt was an annual and traditional event, it was nothing short of vital to these country folk. The Bilgesnipe were both feared and revered. No one hunted them without Odin’s expressed blessing. But they were also extremely aggressive creatures who sought to expand their territories each season. The Hunt was less about killing the Bilgesnipe and more about marking protected lands. The Bilgesnipe would push into the farmlands, wrecking havoc and killing farmers. Thor and his warriors would push them back into their traditional mountain cave homes. Occasionally, a bilgesnipe would be killed. Occasionally, a warrior. It was the Hunt’s cycle.

The territorial incursion was easy to spot from a distance. Smoke rose in great columns from the scorched fields. Hundreds of acres worth of cropland had already been reduced to ash. The fires were burning in the peripheral regions and the warriors slowed to move more cautiously. Phil would have loved to say he too had coaxed his horse to a halt, but he knew as well as Svaðilfari did that the horse would decide where he went, when, and how quickly. Svaðilfari moved to follow Thor’s lead and Phil did his best to make it seem intentional. Again, Sif seemed to notice and moved to position her horse between those of Phil and Thor.

They patrolled cautiously through the fields, listening for sounds of the beast. They pushed on into the woods, following a line of broken branches. They could hear the beast snorting or letting out its cry at various points along the way. To Phil the sounds seemed to come from everywhere at once, surrounding them. Thor and the others seemed to hear it differently and pressed on in a single direction forward. As they drew closer to the mountains, more rocky outcrops began to stud their path and Phil began seeing the evidence of caves and rock shelters. The warriors all watched these very closely.

After some time, Thor raised his hand for them to stop and all the horses halted. He turned to look at them, signaling off towards his right. Phil could see nothing but trees, so he put on the helmet he’d held on his saddle horn up to this point. He looked where Thor had indicated and JARVIS enhanced the image, showing him the outline of an enormous creature, camouflaged against the trees.

The bilgesnipe was easily twenty feet tall and of enormous girth. Three-foot-long horns stuck out from its head and a series of foot-long spikes stuck out from its tail. Phil could also see the long teeth that protruded from its mouth as it devoured the farm animal it had snatched. For its enormous size, it looked lean and Phil was suddenly very glad the beast was too occupied to have noticed them. Svaðilfari started nodding his head and champing in anticipation.

“It is rare to get the opportunity to approach unnoticed. We must take it,” Thor said quietly to his warriors. “Sif, Fandral. Get above that ridge, quickly. There is likely another one in the area. Keep a sharp lookout. Hogun and I will approach the beast. Volstagg, you and Philip will head back towards to the wood line. If the beast flies from us, you will protect the farmers.”

The warriors nodded and began their silent movements. Svaðilfari, however, would not turn. Phil tried to pull on the reigns and indicate to follow Volstagg, but Svaðilfari kept straining back to face the bilgesnipe. He began to stamp his feet as Thor started to move off. Phil strained against him.

“Come on, Svaðilfari. Come on. We gotta move this. Good horsey, come on,” he tried coaxing, intermingling clicks and whistles he’d heard in cowboy movies.

Svaðilfari would not be budged. He started to not only stamp but jump up onto his hind legs and slam his front hooves back down with more emphasis. He desperately wanted to join Thor. He started to whinny and stamp more aggressively. Volstagg circled back quickly.

“Control that horse, human!” he’s said in a harsh whisper. “He’ll alert the bilgesnipe and we’ll lose our advantage!”

Phil clicked at the Svaðilfari and pulled hard on the reigns. “Come on, Svaðilfari, we have to…” Then Phil did what he would realize in hindsight he should never have done. He thought back to every cowboy movie he’d ever seen and tried kicking into the horse’s hind quarters with his heels.

Svaðilfari responded immediately. Shot as from a gun, Svaðilfari bolted off after Thor. Phil clung to the reigns and tried desperately to stay in his saddle. “Whoa, Svaðilfari, whoa, whoa!!”

Thor, Hogun, and the bilgesnipe all turned to look at Phil as he and Svaðilfari tore through the trees at great speed. The bilgesnipe roared and out of shock, rushed off deeper into the woods and towards a large rock outcropping. As he did, Svaðilfari changed course to follow and Phil suddenly realized he wasn’t rushing off after Thor; Svaðilfari was rushing off to hunt. He passed Thor and Hogun without slowing his breakneck pace.

“Find Volstagg and make sure the beast doesn’t circle back!” Thor shouted to Hogun before rushing off after Phil.

Svaðilfari chased the bilgesnipe all the way to a large outcropping and stopped abruptly at the entrance to a subterranean cave. Phil, who had been clinging to Svaðilfari with both arms wrapped around his neck, was thrown as Svaðilfari kicked up onto his hind legs several times. He tried to stand, but Svaðilfari began aggressively head-butting him, whinnying and pushing Phil towards the cave’s entrance. He seemed desperate for Phil to pursue.

Thor stopped next to them and quickly dismounted, grabbing Svaðilfari’s reigns and making calming noises. “Easy, boy, easy.”

He turned to look at Phil. “I am sorry Philip. I should never have given you Svaðilfari. He is too eager for the hunt.”

Phil waved a dismissing hand, hoping the gesture was casual enough to mask the terror-driven adrenaline that was coursing through him.

Thor smiled and looked at the cave. “But he is an excellent tracker. Come, what say we explore and hunt our beast?” He clapped Phil on the shoulder and began walking towards the entrance.

Phil eyed Svaðilfari. The horse held his stare.

“What did I ever do to you?”

Svaðilfari whinnied in reply and once again nudged him in the cave’s direction. Phil scowled at him, then pulled his gun and followed after Thor.

***

The cave was not the dark cavern Phil had anticipated, but more of a series of tunnels and open spaces formed by boulders and rock falls. Here and there light streamed through, allowing them to see where they were heading as they descended deeper into the tunnels. They could hear the bilgesnipe snort and claw against rock, but the sound bounced and echoed making it sound as if the creature was everywhere at once.

Yet strangely, Phil felt in his element. Moving silently through the cave, gun in hand, was vaguely reminiscent of hunting a certain Obadiah Stane in Stark’s labs not so long ago. This was a style of hunt he understood. He started moving more quickly and with confidence, listening to every sound and noting every scrape on the floor.

As the tunnel opened into a larger space, Phil noticed the scrapes on the cavern floor had begun to change. They seemed too organized, too perfect, if that made any sense. They seemed to lead towards the center of the space, an area full of sunlight. Perhaps the beast had chosen to walk in the sunlight for its own sake or perhaps it wanted to be sure any followers would see the trail.

He knelt down and took a more cautious look at the space around him. He noted a series of dark recess above them and his gut feelings started to sing out. He aimed his gun at one of the closer recesses as he began to feel sure this was trap.

Thor, on the hand, had spotted the trail as well and followed it into the sunlight. Before Phil could catch his attention, the bilgesnipe launched from its perch in the recess. It tried to impale Thor with its horns, but Thor was able to swing Mjölnir just in time. It cracked one of the great horns and caused its body to spin following the momentum of his swing. The bilgesnipe roared in shock and thrashed back into the rock wall. The impact caused a partial collapse and boulders began raining down onto Thor. He swung Mjölnir to deflect some of the falling rocks. As he did, the bilgesnipe regained its footing and lashed out its spiked tail.

To Phil, it happened in the blink of an eye. He watched as Thor was impaled and pinned against the cave’s wall. Then the bilgesnipe pulled back and flicked its tail violently, casting the speared Thor across the space. He left a blood trail as he slid across the cave’s floor.

Phil fired a few shots at the creature’s face before it could turn and try to feast on Thor. The bullets bounced harmlessly off its armored scales, but they sparked as they struck and caused the creature to rear back in shock. Phil sprinted across the way, dove under the outstretched tail, and slid to position himself in front of Thor. The creature turned and roared. Phil calmly stood and unloaded his clip into the creature’s open mouth.

It reared back in pain and jumped back into the dark recess.  Phil used the moment to reload and then reached down to get an arm under the injured Thor. He tried to move his unconscious body towards a few boulders where they might have the semblance of shelter, but the weight of Mjölnir which still lay in Thor’s grasp, stopped Phil cold. Phil wasn’t going to be able to move Thor an inch, let alone out of the cave. With the bilgesnipe somewhere just above them and sure to return momentarily, Phil knew he would have to stand and fight. Losing Thor in this cave was simply not an option.

Yet while bullets had hurt the creature, they were clearly not going to kill it. Mjölnir was beyond his ability, so he reached for Thor’s sword instead. The silver blade sung as he drew it from Thor’s scabbard. Phil stared at the runes carved into the blade and suddenly realized he held Ragnarok, Odinsword.

The bilgesnipe roared at the sound of the sword being drawn and Phil turned to face it.

He could hear the bilgesnipe shuffling in the recess but JARVIS had to switch to thermal view in order for him to see the creature. When it did, Phil realized with horror there wasn’t one creature in the recess, but two. A much smaller bilgesnipe, perhaps only six foot tall, stood against the wall, the larger creature between it and Phil. Phil suddenly realized it was a parent and offspring, and he just wouldn’t be able to kill a creature defending its baby.

This, Phil would later realize, had been an awfully presumptive thought on his part.

His visor suddenly filled with bright light as the thermal imagery went off the charts. He jumped and rolled blindly to his left as a great fireball spat out from the bilgesnipe. He rolled into a low crouch, sword up, as the bilgesnipe leapt from its perch. The horn struck by Mjölnir had been broken off, but it swung the remaining horn towards Phil’s body. He blocked it with Ragnarok and felt his gloves constrict in response to the tremendous vibration. The bilgesnipe lashed out with a clawed right hand that scraped Phil from head to torso. His suit altered in response and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Phil followed the line of the horn and drove the sword towards the bilgesnipe’s face. The blade seemed to burn the creature as it touched its scales. It reared back and turned, spinning its spiked tail towards Phil. Phil started to move away but the spikes struck him in the back as he did. The suit responded accordingly and protected him from the blow, but the momentum sent him skidding across the floor. The suit had constricted mercilessly and he couldn’t get a full breath. Man, how he hated beta-testing equipment.

 The bilgesnipe moved to pounce on Phil and claw at him with its enormous front limbs.  He swung Ragnarok at it did and the sword sliced through the creatures hand, severing a claw and dousing the blade in blood. It screamed in protest before stamping on Phil with its rear foot. Its claws got purchase along Phil’s shoulders and dragged him backwards. Phil blindly swung the sword upward, slashing the creature’s calf. Blood poured down onto him before the wound seemed to sear closed under the blade.

The bilgesnipe roared and slammed backwards into the wall that had already partially collapsed. More boulders rained down as the ceiling’s opening grew considerably wider.  The bilgesnipe turned to the dark recess and cried out in two short bursts. The smaller bilgesnipe emerged and flew out through the opening in response. The larger bilgesnipe followed.

Phil lay on the cave’s floor for a moment, allowing the suit to relax and for him to breathe and process what had just happened.  He used Ragnarok to help him stand up and then moved quickly back to Thor. He knelt beside him, using Ragnarok to help him stay steady.

Blood covered the front of Thor’s armor and it was apparent the bilgesnipe’s tail had pierced his side. Phil pulled off Thor’s breastplate to get a better look at the wound.

“Treachery! Unhand him, fiend!”

Phil spun to look to see that Sif had climbed the partially collapsed wall and was looking down at them from above. Phil suddenly realized what the scene must look like. There was no bilgesnipe and an uninjured Phil, who was covered in blood, was standing above Thor’s bloody body, stripping his armor. And from her angle, the way Phil had jammed Ragnarok into the ground next to Thor for balance, must surely look like he’d stabbed Thor clean through. 

“Oh wait, wait, wait… this isn’t what…”

She let out a battle cry and leapt, sword upraised, into the cave. She landed near Phil and brought down her sword with a force that made the bilgesnipe’s pale in comparison. His suit altered to the extreme and her sword bounced off with a clang that echoed through the remaining chamber. Phil lost all of his breath as he was thrown down by the force.

 She rained blow after blow down upon him. The suit clanged in response, defending him. But with each blow, the lung constriction grew worse and Phil suddenly realized he was going to pass out. He tried to struggle, but his lungs wouldn’t let him get a word out to explain.

JARVIS spoke calmly in his ear. “Engaging counter measures, sir.”

Phil felt his helmet vibrate momentarily and his display showed power levels suddenly surging. Then a bright light filled the cave as a massive repulsor beam shot out from the port on this helmet. It struck Sif in mid-body and threw her clear across the cave’s open space. She struck against a boulder and fell near the cave’s entrance where Volstagg and Hogun were just coming in. A flash of movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Fandral just peering over the cave’s ceiling opening. Volstagg looked at Sif and then across to Thor’s body. He raised his mighty axe and took a step into the cave. Hogun and Fandral raised their swords as well.

Phil’s facemask suddenly popped open and he heard JARVIS one more time. “Power levels down to 1%, sir. Shutting down.” Then Phil felt the whole suit relax and he was suddenly very aware that he was about to face four legendary warriors wearing nothing more than expensive spandex.

“Definitely not going sideways,” he said to no one in particular. Then he did the only thing he could: he stood, raised Ragnarok, and prepared to defend himself.

“Halt!” Thor’s booming voice echoed around the cave’s walls. “Philip, to me.”

Phil lowered the sword immediately and moved over to Thor, where he was struggling to sit up. He kneeled in front of Thor to look him in the eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I will be fine, Philip. I am certain I will heal.” He reached out and grasped Phil on the shoulder. “When I fell,” he began, just loud enough for the others to hear, “you raised Odinsword in my defense and the bilgesnipe flew from you in fear. You may not share my strength, Philip, but we clearly share a warrior’s heart. I was right to count you as my ally.”

Phil smiled, not sure what to say. “I simply followed your lead, Thor.”

Thor smiled more broadly and Phil helped him to stand up. Thor looked up to his warriors, making eye contact with each and ending with Sif.

“Philip, Son of Coul, has proved himself this day and is worthy of your honor.”

The Warriors Three bowed their heads in salute. Sif stood and straightened herself before finally looking at Phil and following suit.

***

The ride back passed quickly. The Warriors Three sang songs and occasionally rode up to clap Phil on the back and share with him the wine they’d brought. As they neared home, Sif approached Phil as well, at Thor’s apparent urging. She stared straight ahead as she spoke, perhaps too proud or too embarrassed to look at him.

“I know you once held Thor against his will and I was not as quick to offer you forgiveness, Philip. I was wrong. I wish to thank you for your efforts to protect Thor.”

“We do what we must to protect our friends.”

She nodded in agreement and they rode the rest of the way together. Phil may have come on this journey to prove he was merely human, but he would leave the honored ally of five great warriors. And heck, he figured, smiling to himself… he could just about live with that.

***

Phil stood before Heimdall and awaited his trip back to Earth. He had said goodbye to Thor at the stables as Thor had been rushed off to have his wounds addressed. Sif and the Warriors had called a feast in Phil’s honor and regaled Odin with largely made-up stories of his bravery. Phil had denied nearly every accolade and Odin had smiled in amusement.

Phil had changed into his customary black suit and tried to look relaxed as Heimdall continued to watch him. Phil was beginning to wonder if he should say something when the hall’s doors opened and Queen Frigga walked towards him.

Phil turned to face her and bowed politely. “Your majesty.”

“Philip,” she said as she embraced him and kissed him lightly on each cheek. “You have saved my son and I owe you a great debt.

Phil shook his head. “He would have done the same for me.”

“Yes, I believe he would have. You share a bravery matched only by Odin himself.”

Phil lifted his eyes to look directly at hers. He was deeply touched that she would say such a thing and found he was speechless.

She handed him a small piece of cloth. “A gift from Odin.”

He unrolled it and found a small, flat rectangle of dark material that seemed to weigh nothing in his hands. “May I ask what it is?”

She smiled at him. “Power beyond human reckoning. Odin believes you will find use for it soon.”

He bowed his head in thanks and rewrapped it.

“And now a gift from me,” she said, placing her arm in his and leading him from hall. She escorted him from hall to hall with Heimdall following a few steps behind. They descended a long, stone stairway at the foot of which stood an intricately carved door guarded by two well-armed sentries. She nodded to them and they stood aside and opened the doors.

She led Phil into a room lined with smaller rooms. Transparent walls allowed him to see they each held a figure and some furniture. Phil realized where he was being led. A prison on any world looked just like a prison on any other, he thought as they walked along.

At last they came to the furthest room. It was larger than the others and well furnished. Loki sat at a small desk, writing in a book. He turned and slowly rose as he saw his mother. He approached the transparent wall, which seemed to shimmer with energy. He bowed his head to her.

“Mother,” he said.

“Loki,” she replied as she brought Phil to stand next to her. “You have done this man ill and you owe him a debt.”

Loki straightened himself and cocked his head, slightly, considering Phil. Phil stood before him and casually reached down, putting his hands in his pockets. He met Loki’s eyes.

Phil had not allowed himself to think about a moment like this. It didn’t seem like a possibility and so he had not wasted his energy on thinking about what he would do or say if he ever faced Loki again. But now that the moment occurred, he was a bit surprised to realize he felt neither fear nor anger.

He felt nothing. He looked Loki in the eyes and felt absolutely nothing.

Loki seemed to read this in him and smiled his snake-like smile. He bowed his head slightly towards Phil.

“Of course, Mother. I do indeed owe this man a debt and I will see it repaid.”

“Loki,” she warned. “You owe this man your life. Understand that well.”

He turned to look at Queen Frigga. He closed his eyes and bowed to her more solemnly. She nodded once and turned back to Phil.

“He will repay that debt to you someday, I will see to it.” Then she kissed Phil on the cheek and squeezed his arm. “Safe journey to you, Philip.”

Phil bowed his head. “Your majesty.”

She gave instructions to Heimdall to see Phil safely home and then left the room. Phil continued to look at Loki. Loki smiled back.

“Your world will fall, human,” he said as the doors closed behind the Queen.

Phil considered him for a long moment, stretching out the silence until Loki himself seemed to grow uncomfortable. Only then did he pull his aviators from his jacket pocket.

“I don’t think so,” he said, sliding on the aviators. “But I’ll look forward to seeing you again, Loki.” Then he turned and walked out the doors, Heimdall falling in step behind him.

**********

 

“So…. Stark built you a suit that saves you by suffocating you?”

“Well, yes, but… wait. That’s what you took away from the story?” Phil asked, setting down his beer.

“Phil, obviously you were going to save the day. You wouldn’t have told me the story if it ended with you falling off the horse and everyone laughing.”

They’d moved out to the patio and Clint was grilling burgers. He flipped them and then came to sit across the table from Phil.

“Obviously?” Phil asked. “I tell you I’m heading off with mythological warriors to slay a dragon and it’s obvious that I’m going to be the hero of the story?”

Clint took a sip of his beer and looked at him. “Yup.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well… there are only three ways for a story like that to end: one – you get killed, two – comedy ensues, or three – you save the day,” he explained, using his fingers to tick off each point. “And only one of those versions probably gets told. So… obviously… you must have saved the day.”

Phil leaned back and considered Clint Barton. He really was a smarter SOB than most people gave him credit for.

“And even though you wouldn’t have, Phil?” Clint continued. “You could have told me the comedy version if it had happened. It probably would have been adorable.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would have loved that.”

Clint laughed. “Yeah, probably. But Phil,” Clint said, before taking a sip of his beer. “As much as I love it, it’s not like I need you to be Mr. Perfect all the time. You know that, right?”

Phil nodded and looked away. Clint kept looking at him and after a moment, when Phil still hadn’t met his eyes, seemed to get a bit more concerned. “Phil, you do know that… right?”

Phil smiled and waved a dismissing hand he hoped looked causal. “Sure, yeah. Of course.”

Clint sat and waited until Phil finally looked him. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Phil held his look but wasn’t sure what to say. Clint chuckled, breaking the moment, and pushed back in his chair. “Someday, Phil. Someday I’m going to get through to you. Someday, I’m going to get you to trust me enough to screw up in front of me and not worry about it.”

Clint got up to grab the burgers and Phil watched him go. It was true he’d been holding back from Clint, always keeping something in reserve. But Phil was a reserved guy and he carried a lot of scars. Did Clint really need to see them all? Weren’t the physical ones enough?

“So, what did Stark say when you brought back the suit?”

 

Part Three: Billionaire, Genius, Playboy, Philanthropist

 

Tony Stark was many things. ‘Able to take criticism’ was not one of them.

“You mean, ‘Thank you Mr. Stark, for creating an amazing suit that saved my life, not once, but repeatedly while I ran around playing dungeons and dragons and living out my cosplay fantasies.’ I think that’s what you meant to say to me.”

“Yes, that must have been what I meant,” Phil said.

“Mmmm…” Tony nodded in mock agreement before moving further into the penthouse. Phil moved to follow. They walked down a long, white corridor decorated with expensive looking art. Phil could tell because he couldn’t make out what they were supposed to depict. This one squiggles, that one a single black line, another one apparently just a blank canvas.

The hall opened into a much larger room that was windowless, save for a long glass wall that led out to a veranda. Tony moved outdoors but Phil paused to take in the room. Despite its size, it was furnished with only a single comfortable looking chair, positioned in the far corner, facing him.

Phil turned around to face the same direction the chair was facing. A framed black and white photo of a crying child, standing among the urban ruin of a war-torn city hung on the wall. It was a surprising image to Phil. He turned to look at Tony who was moving towards the veranda bar. Even that man’s inner thought processes were unsubtle, he thought as he walked out to join him. Did he really sit in here and stare at that? Was it that hard for him to remember what he was fighting for?

Either that, or it was some kind of emotional decoy for reporters and co-eds. Both answers were equally likely.

Phil stepped out onto the veranda and towards the bar.

“Can I get you a drink, Phil” Tony asked, pouring himself a seltzer and adding some lemon. “Can I call you Phil, or would you prefer Agent?”

“Phil is fine and yes, thank you.”

“Good. What’s your poison, Agent. I’ve got seltzer and… seltzer.”

“I’ll have the same as you.”

He took his drink and they walked over to a pair of modern looking, but comfortably stuffed chairs. The view of the city was breathtaking.  Phil looked out over Central Park and the people enjoying this sunny day there. It was an emerald jewel in a grey city. It was peaceful and beautiful.

Then he looked down the avenues and at the fractured city. The damage inflicted by the Chitauri was still plainly visible and would be for some time. High-rise cranes were positioned at various points showing signs of active repairs but other buildings were still crumbling and vacant. A few had needed to be demolished, leaving obvious holes in the once familiar skyline.

It was a bittersweet sight. They’d fought and won, but that didn’t erase the damage done. The city would be rebuilt, but it would always bear the scars.

Tony and Phil both knew what that was like.

“That picture is Pepper’s.”

Phil turned to look at him, but Tony kept looking out over the city.

“Pepper put it up. She thinks it’ll help me focus, but I have this.” He paused, thinking about his city. “This is all the focus I need.” 

Phil nodded in silent agreement. “So why do you keep it?” he asked, after a quiet moment.

“Because it reminds me of Pepper. And how easy it is to forget what’s important when you’re worried about everything else.”

“She told me about Miami.”

“Did she? And what did she tell you?”

“That you saved her and removed Extremis from her body.”

Tony nodded and considered that. “Anything else?”

“That you destroyed all of your suits,” Phil said, wondering if he’d touch a nerve.

Tony shook his head “No, not all of them. Just the ones I didn’t need anymore.”

“And how many do you need, Tony?”

“None.” Tony smiled and turned to look at him. “Are we having a moment here, Phil?”

“Well, that depends. Do you want a hug?”

Tony laughed, clearly surprised by the question. “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t want a hug.” He got up and refilled his glass. “Did she tell you that she saved me?”

“Yes. She told me she killed Killian before he could reach you.”

“That’s not what I meant. She did a lot more than that.” He clinked ice cubes into a pair of glasses and brought them back. He handed Phil his fresh drink. “Take everything away from me – my house, my labs, my suits – take all that away and as long as I have Pepper… I have everything I need. It took Killian to prove that to me. Without him, without her... I’m just another guy in a suit, shooting at bad guys.” He held the glass just a little longer forcing Phil to maintain the eye contact. “What’s it going to take for you, Agent?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your little Robin Hood. He’s your Pepper even if you haven’t figured that out yet. So the real question is ‘what’s going to be your Killian?’

Phil shook his head and started to dismiss it. “I don’t think…”

“Because you better figure it out or else you’re going to lose him and go back to being just another suit.”

Phil looked up at him and held his stare. Was Clint his Pepper? What would he do if someone threatened him? What would he do if he ever lost him? What was he willing to do to protect him?

‘Anything,’ Phil realized with a clarity that was somewhat startling. Clint had opened up a whole world for Phil and made him a better man for it. He was driven to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. It was a drive he and Clint shared. But perhaps, like Tony and this city, it was sometimes easy to lose sight of the truly important things while fighting to protect everything else. Maybe it was time Phil focused on something more.

But first, this conversation was becoming more than a bit out of character for Tony. Phil scowled, looking for the ulterior motive. 

“Tony, why is this so important to you?”

Tony released the glass and smiled. He stepped back and leaned against the veranda’s ledge. “Because Pepper likes you.”

“I see.”

“And she wants you to be happy.”

“I see. So, why isn’t she the one here giving advice on my love life?” Phil asked, standing up and walking his glass back to the bar.

“Because she doesn’t know I’m kicking you out.”

Phil turned to look at him. “I see.”

“You’re crowding us and we need our space.”

 “I’m crowding you in a building with 137 floors?”

“Yup. You’re really cramping our style. It’s time for baby bird to fly.” He walked over and set his glass on the bar then kept moving towards the door. “You’ve got a new lease on life, Agent. Ask yourself what you’re going to do with it?”

**********

 

“So… he acted as my wingman.”

“Yes.”

“And then he kicked you out?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you came over. You want to crash here until you get a place.” Clint looked disappointed but at the same time, somehow, not surprised. As if expecting Phil to open up and choose him fully, without reason or reservation, were pipe dreams he should have given up.

Phil cleared the plates and came back with the last of the wine. “No, I’ve already got a place.”

Clint looked at him, confusion on his face. “Then why did you come over tonight?”

Phil reached down and kissed him slowly. “To figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

**********

 

“Tony, are you still awake?”

“Yeah, Pep.”

Pepper rolled over to lay closer to Tony, resting her head on his shoulder as he reached his arm around her.

“You had to let him go sometime. You made the right decision.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to be fine. You shouldn’t worry.”

“I thought we’d really screwed up when he came in asking for a suit.”

Pepper chuckled. “I know, that was unexpected, wasn’t it? I’m just glad I was there. You were ready to put him back on the table, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was.” Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But none of the others seemed to notice anything and Barton… well if he’s happy with him, I guess we’re ok. Best thing going for us was that Phil was so robot-like before.”

Pepper gently kissed him. “No, Tony. The best thing going for us is that you’re the genius who could bring Phil back to life. And he really doesn’t seem to have any idea, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t. But at some point we’re going to have to replace his battery and that might require some explanation.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Is Fury happy with him?”

“Yeah, they’re going to try putting him in the field, soon. They’ll give him a team, see how he does. I’ll keep working on his suit. Maybe throw in a little color, too. Yellow accents or something.”

“A little Iron Man red, too. For luck.” She squeezed him just a little closer. “He’s going to be fine, Tony. He’s still… him, just with newer parts.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. If something breaks down… what’ll they say to him? What’ll he think?”

Pepper reached over and kissed him. “He’ll be fine, Tony. The parts are good and if he finds out, well… he’ll know you loved him enough to give him another shot.”

He looked at her and kissed her slowly. “I love you, Pep.”

She smiled up at him. “I know.”

 


End file.
